


you can call me babe for the weekend

by atlas_oulast



Series: the road not taken looks real good now [1]
Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Making Out, Not Canon Compliant, and then fade to black, that doesn’t mean this is a happy fic tho, this is not a particularly max friendly fic, tis the damn season au, ’implied’ meaning they make out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28626207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast
Summary: Zoey feels lost and broken after a breakup, coming to her parent’s house in Minnesota for Christmas, and discovers an old friend and a something that in another life, could’ve been.
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Leif Donnelly, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman (past)
Series: the road not taken looks real good now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097717
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	you can call me babe for the weekend

**Author's Note:**

> title from tis the damn season by taylor swift :3
> 
> THIS TOOK TOO LONG FOR HOW LONG IT IS. this was supposed to be done on the 31st, when i started it, but it’s taken me this long, and an 11k long thing should Not have taken me as long as it did but here we are. 
> 
> as the tags state, this is not a particularly pro-max fic, but it’s not NEARLY as bad as the waitress fic... still. proceed at your own risk, if you hate what ive done with max just go fuck yourself tbh i have no energy to deal with it. im proud of this fic and i don’t need the whining. it’s in the tags because the relationship is a big part of the fic, eat shit.
> 
> anyway this is heavily inspired by taylor swift and a bunch of songs off evermore, not just tis the damn season... you’ll see.
> 
> enjoy! :3

Tis The Damn Season Fic

Zoey’s boots made a crunching noise as she trudged through the snow, hands buried in the pockets of her heavy winter coat. Her head was bowed towards the ground in a fruitless attempt to try to make out the ground beneath her while she walked in the dark, snow gently falling around her.

These boots weren’t exactly made for walking in the snow, they were just tawny brown off-brand Ugg’s with the fake fur inside, and dumb bottoms with almost no grip. Like her and her relationship with the world, it was difficult for her to keep her balance if she went too fast.

There were only a few dim streetlights on this stretch of sidewalk, their wan light made all the more unhelpful by the snow. It would start coming down harder soon, she knew, but she couldn’t will her feet to walk faster. It was like her heartstrings were trying to control her like a marionette. If they had their way, she would turn tail and run as fast as she could without slipping in her terrible boots. 

Even if they could control her, they were throbbing, begging, telling her to _go back_ and to _kiss him and not let go this time._

But Zoey knew her place in the world, and she knew his place, as well. They didn’t overlap.

So she continued on, shoving her feelings down deep as she tried to just get home.

_____________

Her parents were, as always, beyond overjoyed to see her.

She had seen them just a few weeks ago at Thanksgiving, and she had visited when her great-aunt died in May, and she would see them again when she came back for New Year’s in a week, because they’d made her promise. 

“We don’t see you enough,” her mom said, hugging her tight in the airport, smelling like and feeling like a mother. As much as Zoey didn’t like admitting it to herself, it made her feel so much better. Her mom was soft and warm and she loved her, and who could ask for more than that?

Her father hugged her too, giving her a warm smile, and while he did that, her mom plucked the purple suitcase standing next to Zoey and began to roll it.

“Mom, you don’t have to-“

“But I _want_ to,” she said, smiling. 

It wasn’t until they were in the car, threading their way out of the busy airport parking lot, that the questions began.

“So why couldn’t Max come this year, Zo?” Her dad asked, sitting in the passenger seat as her mom peered through the windshield through the snow, trying to make her way out of this parking lot. Despite having flown in and out and driven people in and out countless times from this small airport with only four gates, her mom never casually drove out of the parking lot. She was always very focused, and then would relax as soon as they got on the highway, and she could never explain why. Zoey, her brother, and her dad made fun of her for it constantly.

At least this time, there was a reason to be crawling along, the snow was coming down steadily, and it was unusually crowded with cars, people coming home for the holidays. Only during the holidays was it quite this crowded. Or, it was the fault of the Orange Kia Sorrento that was trying to back into a space via the line of cars.

Zoey would prefer to focus on that Kia then talk to her parents about this subject, but she’d have to get it over with at some point.

“He... Max and I broke up,” Zoey said slowly.

“Oh, no, Zoey, really?!” Her mom exclaimed, even risking turning around briefly to look at her in the backseat. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Asked her father.

“Because now you’re all going to be weird this whole week and I don’t want that... I just want to have a normal Christmas with my family without constantly talking about how I just broke up with my boyfriend,” Zoey said firmly. “If at all possible, I’d like to avoid that.”

“Alright, alright, if you feel so strongly about it, I won’t mother you about this... but that doesn’t mean I don’t care and that I won’t try to make you feel better,” her mom said.

She had just said in a sentence both that she’d stop but also she wouldn’t.... her mom was a genius and Zoey didn’t feel like protesting.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, smiling ruefully in the mirror at her, letting her know that she had seen right through that.

She didn’t smile back. “You’re not being cheerful because it was a bad relationship, right?”

“No, of course not. I’m just trying to be positive about life,” Zoey lied.

“You two were dating for five years, I-“

“I did all the bawling my eyes out that I needed to, Mom, don’t worry.”

“Well, the woman said not to talk about her breakup, let’s not talk about it,” her dad said, rescuing her from her mom. “I’ll turn on the radio once your mom is out of the parking lot.”

“It’s something about this parking lot, Mitch!” Maggie said, pretending to be annoyed. “I just can’t drive through it and feel safe.”

Her mom and dad launched into the discussion they had every time they drove Zoey to and from the airport, about what it could be that her mom was afraid of, her mom saying she didn’t know exactly what it was, and her dad asking if it was because she was afraid a plane would crash in the parking lot, or if there was a bomb, and round and round they’d go in their playful banter.

Zoey sat quietly in the backseat, pulling her legs up to the seat to sit cross legged, her heart aching for someone to have a banter with, to one day be able to drive her own kid home from the airport and argue about parking lots with.

_“You’re crazy if you throw this away.”_

When they finally made their way out of the parking lot, her mom sat back in her seat and accelerated gently down the highway. Her dad, right on cue, turned up the radio.

One of the three stations in their area, that played Christmas music, KZ 99.9, had Santa Claus Is Coming To Town playing, merrily playing through the speakers in the front of the Camry and the ones behind her seat.

She all but tuned out out her mom and dad talking about her maybe coming out in the summer, when they could get out on Lake Superior, fish a little bit, like they’d done every summer when she was growing up. Zoey responded noncommittally, a lot of ‘Oh, maybe, depends on work,’ and ‘That would be fun’ and that sort of thing. 

This nice, quiet, family Christmas, with her and her parents and her brother and his wife and their kids, would be nice to take her mind off everything, a welcome relief from the drama back in San Francisco. It was cold and rainy there, cold and snowy in Minnesota. 

Equally depressing in both places.

The airport wasn’t too far from her childhood home, but the steady snow slowed them down. Not as slow as the parking lot, but her mother drove with practiced caution and her father tried to lift her mood with lighthearted jokes. 

Finally, they turned onto their street, one lined with trees, but with all the houses tucked behind long gravel driveways, making it a short walk to get the mail every day. Their driveway was marked with the mailbox that Zoey and her brother, David, had painted as kids, all bright colors and little kid handprints all over it, _Clarke_ in those mailbox letters on stickers, was placed on it, and she and David had had to work around it the whole time, getting some bright paint on them despite their best efforts.

They turned into the driveway, gravel making a comforting crumbling noise beneath the tires as they slowly drove up. The only other car in the driveway was the Sienna that their parents drove, usually on business, transporting plants and gardening tools across the state. _Clarke Landscaping_ was on a white decal on the passenger side door, that her dad had gotten done as a birthday present.... for their business.

Zoey got out, making sure to be the first to the trunk to grab her suitcase out of it, not wanting to make her mom drag it up the gravel. She had obviously been heading towards it, but a forced smirk from Zoey told her that she would be carrying her own luggage.

She pulled it a little violently across five feet of gravel, and yanked it up the concrete step to the front porch. From there, it was a smooth ride to the front door, where her parents were holding the door open for her, and there was noise inside of small children running around and playing, and the smell of cinnamon and _home_ wafting out. 

Zoey left her suitcase by the front door like she always did, because the stairs were right next to it and she would eventually take it upstairs to her childhood bedroom, took off her boots and placed them on the shoe shelf on the other side of the door, and padded out to the living room in her socks.

“Hello, gamers,” Zoey said, smiling as her brother and Emily got up to greet her. David gave her a warm hug, and Emily a shorter one, but equally kind. 

They’d been sitting on the grey sectional, and their kids, Miles and Evelyn, were playing on the floor with an array of Hot Wheels cars. Miles was four, and Evelyn two, and their favorite game, besides fighting, was zipping the cars across the hardwood floor at each other and screeching in delight. They seemed indifferent to Zoey’s presence, so she knelt down on the floor next to them and picked up a small purple truck.

“No!” Evelyn protested loudly, grabbing the truck back from her immediately.

“Hello to you too, Evelyn,” Zoey said, smiling at her niece. She glared at her.

“Can I play with you guys?” She asked.

“No!” Miles and Evelyn chorused.

Zoey was defeated. The one group she felt comfortable with during the holidays, the kids, had rejected her, and so, she was exiled back to the land of the adults. 

Coming home to a house she’d lived in for eighteen years logically shouldn’t be weird, but logic was only something Zoey could apply in her coding, not something ever applied to her personal life. It just... felt odd. Like she was intruding upon something.

No matter how much she told herself _Your parents are literally so happy to see you, relax_ , she wouldn’t be able to relax for the first day when she came back for a visit. She would sit tensely on the couch, feeling sucked-in while watching a movie with her parents. 

The house smelled weird- not a bad weird, just... unfamiliar. Which was a terrifying feeling to have in a house where she’d spent her life.

She could trace major milestones of childhood through the walls alone- the bit of crayon scribbles that had stubbornly stayed on the wall from when she’d drawn on them, age three, the pencil marks on the door frame in her room where she’d measured her height herself with a Snoopy pencil, the place where she’d slammed her elbow into the wall on roller skates in the house, age 12, and had promptly passed out when she hit the pressure point in her elbow.

All this history here, all these memories of childhood glee, and here she was, sitting stiffly on the corner piece of the couch, with David and Emily on one side, her mother next to her, and her dad in his chair, feeling unwelcome and out of place.

She was a toothbrush in a Hidden Pictures in a Highlights magazine, laying on the windowsill, and once you noticed it, it stuck out like a sore thumb, especially after you circled it in bright red crayon. Or at least that’s what her anxiety told her.

They had already been watching an episode of The Crown when Zoey had arrived- one she’d already seen, but she wasn’t about to tell them to turn it to one she hadn’t. Being quiet and not causing a fuss in the house during the period of feeling out of place was the way to go.

Below the wall mounted television was their fireplace, currently dark and without flame, but every Christmas Eve and usually Christmas Night, someone would find the firewood that hadn’t been used over the summer in backyard campfires and start a roaring fire, they’d roast marshmallows, and talk tiredly, or just sit in comfortable silence. That was always the best part of Zoey’s Christmas at home.

“So, where’s Max?” David asked, turning to her when the episode had been paused for Emily to get up and go to the bathroom, and their mom and dad had gone to the kitchen, instructing them not to wait for them.

“Oh, we broke up,” Zoey said, delivering the line bluntly, knowing David would get over it faster than her parents.

“Oh, damn.... wasn’t, like, your five year anniversary a bit ago?”

“Yeah... few weeks ago.” December 14th. It hadn’t even been a week, or even five days, since their breakup.

_”You just left me there, alone!”_

“That sucks... seriously thought you and him would be a forever thing.”

“You know me better than to have any sort of actual commitment, David.”

“Well, you were in a serious relationship for five years, I kinda expected you two would tie the knot pretty soon.”

“Well.... we didn’t. We’re done.”

_”You won’t remember!”_

“Oof to that... maybe eventually you’ll find it.”

“Or maybe I won’t. It’s perfectly acceptable for a woman to never marry.”

“Except you almost always have an ongoing relationship, a messy, horrible relationship. Except for Max.”

“Yeah... except for Max,” Zoey said quietly.

“How’re Mom and Dad taking it?”

“Told Mom to cut out her... thing she does whenever I’m going through a breakup. I’m pretty sure that she will continue to do it up until the moment she takes me back to the airport on the 26th.”

“Yeah, why are you flying on the 26th and then coming back on the 30th, and leaving again on the 2nd? Emily and I are just staying the whole way through till the 2nd.”

“Because I have to be in work the 27th, 8th, and 9th. Deadlines, unfortunately.” If she could stay through the 2nd without leaving again, she would... it’d be better than going back to work and her friends. The shattering of Zoey and Max’s relationship, like a glass someone dropped, had sent shockwaves through their friend group, and she hadn’t even spoken to some of them since the 14th. It could just be her paranoia, because there were texts sent to her left on read, but it could be that they had sent those texts intending to follow them up by yelling at her.

And she’d have to face each and every one of them at work on the 27th.... except for, thank god, Max.

“Besides, I’m not leaving until the evening on the 26th... you’re going to get your fix of Zoey, I promise.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.”

__________________

Dinner was a casual affair, enough frozen pizza made for everyone to have as much as they wanted was tossed onto the counter once cooked and cut, and everyone was welcome to it whenever they got off their butt and ate it.

Despite being allowed to eat on the couch since age 10, Zoey sat on the floor, apparently paranoid about dropping pizza on the sectional that was probably older than her, and had many a stain to prove it. Two pieces of cheese pizza later, she was feeling just as pathetic as before.

She usually just rode out the awkward, out of place feeling and felt better by lunchtime on the next day, but with the added layer of the absence of Max this year, Zoey couldn’t stand this.

She got up, putting on her coat and boots. “I’m gonna take a walk,” she informed them all.

The snow was deep enough to almost cover her forefoot on her boots, and she had to focus on not slipping. It was also 5pm, and so it was getting dark rapidly. In forty-five minutes, maybe an hour, it would be pitch black out. 

She walked down the side of the road, Thomas Street, and turned onto Rose Road, a two lane road with a sidewalk. Not far from here, there was a small store, and there was also a park. The park was better for sitting in her hurt on a cold bench, the cold seeping through her pants, and so that’s where she ended up.

Nobody else was in the park as far as she could tell, crossing one leg over the other to help keep warm in the biting cold. By now, everyone was home, having dinner, or maybe just coming back from late holiday shopping.

When Max came with her to visit her parents on Christmas, he would always bring a Ziploc bag full of dreidels and a bag of candy left over from Halloween. The dreidels were the plastic kind, because he and Zoey agreed that they were superior to the wooden ones. Even though Hanukkah was always over by the time they got there, they would all sit on the floor by the fire and play dreidel until someone was lightly tipsy enough to get Cards Against Humanity out from the coat closet.

Zoey felt painfully alone.

_”I told my family for a reason!”_

Now back home, they would be decorating SPRQ Point, something that always happened on the 18th, because Joan didn’t want Christmas decorations for more than three weeks. The lobby and their floor and the bullpen all decked out, her chair empty. Maybe someone would put some elf ears on either side of one of her monitors, a Santa hat draped over a corner. Or they’d leave it painfully bare.

And Mo decorated the apartment building he and Zoey lived in yesterday.... he had had the _nerve_ to deck those halls with fake garlands and a tree with rainbow ornaments on every landing and in every corner. Halls where she and Max had once torn through, holding hands, back when she couldn’t imagine loving anyone else or not loving him.

“Oh my god,” someone said.

Zoey snapped out of her thoughts, picking up her head from where it had been staring into space at her lap, and looked up at the owner of that hauntingly familiar voice.

She couldn’t place the face... but she knew she knew him. 

He seemed to see her struggling, so he supplied the three words that made it all click for her: “Mathletes State Championship.”

She had been on the Mathlete team in high school, and in her senior year, she got to go to a state championship with her team, and they’d all splurged for airbrushed shirts from some kid’s aunt with their names and team name on them, and they’d gone to state and one of her teammates had fainted during the competition.

That teammate had been Leif Donnelly... and here he was, in the flesh. A grown up version of his sharp features, lanky body, and ridiculous height. He was probably taller than he was in high school... or maybe she was just shorter.

“Oh my lord,” Zoey responded finally, taking in the sight of him. That sharply defined face, piercing blue eyes, a tuft of blonde hair poking out of the blue beanie he was wearing over his ears. A heavy blue coat, black pants, and boots. 

“Zoey Clarke!” He said, smiling, a bright and genuine smile. She wasn’t really in a smiling mood, herself, as good as it was to see him, but she offered up a slightly forced smile.

“God, I have not seen you in forever,” Zoey said. She hated awkward conversations and encounters, and she wasn’t about to make this interaction one of them. Goddamnit, she was going to keep this conversation going until he said he’d ‘better head out.’

“Not since graduation, huh?”

“Yeah... you were the kid who booed when I got my diploma,” Zoey said.

“I did... because you wouldn’t let go of the fact that we lost State because I passed out and so we forfeited without enough members.”

“I worked that team from obscurity and depravity to a team capable of winning Nationals, excuse me for being mad for loosing my shot at winning.”

“Well, something tells me you won after high school. You left for college _early_ , I was still at my summer job.”

“Busboy at Delores’?”

“You know it,” he said, with a pained smile. Delores’ was the bagel shop not far from here, and she was notorious for yelling at her employees constantly. It was basically a dinner show, except for the fact that it closed at 2pm every day.

“God, I couldn’t have done that... that’s why I tutored in math and science for four years.”

“Yeah... my mom said she was pretty sure you were going to become a doctor.”

“Well, I didn’t. Programmer for the win, I don’t have to interact with human beings.”

“Not even other programmers?”

“Programmers aren’t human beings.”

Leif laughed, and the break in conversation made Zoey realize.... she wasn’t helping this conversation along, pulling it on a leash until he left. She was merely participating in a seemingly practiced song and dance. This wasn’t.... this was like she was talking to an old friend. And it wasn’t like he and her were friends in high school, they were both trying to be better than the other constantly, locked in an unspoken but mutually understood rivalry.

And maybe it was because it had been years and years since they’d seen each other, but if she’d told high school age Zoey that she would have a pleasant conversation with Leif Donnelly at age 27, she wouldn’t have believed it. She’d _hated_ him back in the day.

“I guess you’re right about that,” Leif said, a smile on his face leftover from the laughing. “I’m actually a programmer too... I freelance, though.”

“Oh, my ex does freelance,” Zoey said before she could stop herself. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Who on Earth said _my ex does freelance?_

Leif made a choked half-laughing sound, awkward and weird and somehow not bothering her much. “You didn’t change a bit.”

“Seriously?” She had only had one boyfriend in high school, a running back named Dink, whom she dated when she was a sophomore and he was a senior. Unsurprisingly, they’d lasted all of four months. And she was pretty sure that nowadays Dink was a propane attendant at a Flying J in Missouri, if his Facebook profile didn’t lie. And it’s not like she had told Leif any of that.

“Blunt as always... your ex is probably a dick, and my Java is better than his.”

“Sounds kinda like something he’d say... that the indie music he listened to was so much better than mine.”

“Dick,” Leif said.

Zoey couldn’t help herself from laughing a little bit, which shocked her internally all the more, because since when did she laugh with the man who was her worst enemy in high school?

“Can I sit down?” Leif asked, smiling that smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

This was _far_ from the conversation she had expected to have... she’d expected to quickly catch up with him and then he’d say ‘Well, I should get going, see you around.’

But he hadn’t. He wanted to _continue_ talking to her. And every sane bone in her body was telling her to say that _she_ should go, but she didn’t... and she didn’t want to.

“Sure,” she said, and after she scooched to one end to make room for him, he sat next to her, sitting on the other end of the bench, not manspreading, keeping his ridiculously long legs to himself. She appreciated that, but it just went to show how low the bar was.

“I watched you leave from Delores’, actually... I was bussing a booth next to a window and I saw your mom’s car... and I saw you in the front seat head banging.”

Zoey remembered that day- she had been so excited to get to college for early orientation, and her dad had been driving her and put on Queen, specifically Bohemian Rhapsody, and who _didn’t_ head bang to the music after that ‘MEEEEEEEEE’? But still... anyone but her parents seeing that was embarrassing, even all these years later.

“Thanks, I guess?” Zoey said, feeling heat on her cheeks. 

“And then that was the last time I saw you... until now.”

“Yeah, last time _I_ saw you was at graduation, eating a slice of cheese pizza.”

“What can I say... I was semi-kosher.”

“You’re... Jewish?” Zoey didn’t remember him being Jewish back when she was in school with him, and she’d think she’d remember shit like that.

“Yeah, I converted after I moved out. I’d been planning to for years at that point.”

“Oh, wow... cool. I was... considering converting, since my ex was Jewish and it was really serious, and it all genuinely interests me... but I don’t know now.” That was mostly true, but that made it sound like she’d only considered it a little... she’d spent hours pouring over books and doing research online, she had been all but ready for a long time, the only thing in her way procrastination.

“Well, at least you were genuinely interested in it... I met a bunch of people who tried to convert for partners without really knowing much or caring about it, and then when they realized how long it would take they dropped it real fast.”

“I don’t commit to anything without being sure.” Which was both a strong point and a weak aspect of her personality.

“Did you hear that Delores died a few weeks ago?” 

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t hear? Immortal Delores died?” Zoey welcomed the subject change, and was genuinely taken aback by the information, since Delores’ had existed since before she was born and had always been here when she came back to visit, and she had never seemed to age at all, thus earning her that Immortal Delores nickname.

“Yeah... and the obituary in the newspaper said that they didn’t even know when she was born. So that means even her daughter didn’t know.”

“Oh my god... she must have been just about a million years old.”

“I’ll bet... but Katie runs the place now. Less screaming... less fun. Apparently Delores collapsed in the middle of screaming at her and died in the hospital a few days later.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else from her.”

Zoey found herself still speaking to Leif an hour later, long after it’d gotten dark and much colder, and when she realized how late it was... she almost didn’t care.

Because talking to Leif, she found easy. Despite having not seen him in ten years, she felt relaxed and at ease talking to him, not all stuff like she’d been in the house earlier. Telling him stuff wasn’t at all hard... which was a little bit worrying, because that was poised to potentially screw up her whole shtick of never letting anyone actually help her and keeping all her feelings buried deep inside until she was desperate. 

But for now, everything was fine, at least until she started shivering and her teeth began chattering, and the feeling beginning to slip away from her feet. Leif, too, began to show similar symptoms, and Zoey knew that she had to wrap this up.

“My family’s probably starting to worry about me... I should get back,” Zoey forced herself to say. As much as she would be okay with sitting on this bench and talking to him the whole night through- which like, what the fuck, Zoey?- she needed to get back. She was cold and didn’t want a search party.

Leif nodded in understanding. “Yeah, it’s getting colder out anyway... it was really nice to catch up with you.”

“Same,” Zoey said, getting up. She felt remorseful about how this would be the last time she spoke to Leif for probably ten more years, since it had been so... so pleasant, just now, but she wasn’t exactly going to move here from her nice job in San Francisco, even if all of her friends probably hated her.

“See you around, Zoey,” Leif said, getting up as well.

“See you around,” she agreed, despite having every intention of not seeing him around.

They parted ways, Leif going one way and her going the other, walking slowly through the gathering snow in boots she quickly realized had just about _no_ traction, which was a great thing to have for a quarter of a mile walk through the snow back to her parent’s house, shivering with every crunch, crunch, crunch of her shoes.

She assured her parents when she finally stumbled into the warm, bright oasis of the house that she had just gone for a long walk and lost track of time, watched a movie with them, and finally carried her suitcase upstairs to her childhood bedroom.

Zoey had been back here plenty of times, but she hadn’t changed any of the decorations since high school, leaving it as a sort of time capsule into her high school life. Blue walls she’d painted herself in her sophomore year, a wooden desk with a swivel chair her dad had donated to her, high school textbooks still sitting dusty on the desktop. She also still had a few items of clothing left in her dusty, almost bare closet, including that airbrushed Mathletes shirt that she unfolded and laid on her lap delicately to admire.

Her name written in bright blue on the back, and a ruler and calculus equation on the front, and on top of it in bright neon green, _Tyler High Mathlete_. 

Memories of her studying for competitions came to mind, and trying to outdo Leif in any way she could at every turn.

Leif... she needed to stop thinking about him because she wasn’t going to see him again.

She folded up the shirt and went to bed, twisting around in her white sheets, a single blue blanket on top, in a bed next to a drafty window.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get warm, and she wasn’t about to go ask for a blanket, the at edge feeling in this house hadn’t passed yet. The dark, shadowy room was different than her bedroom in her apartment that she was used to... or Max’s bed in his apartment. 

She eventually fell asleep, cold, in an unfamiliar and unforgiving room.

____________________

That morning, Zoey didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but she found herself walking down Thomas Street once more, nearly slipping and sliding all the way in her stupid, stupid boots. God, if she came to Minnesota in the winter more often, she would consider shelling out for a better pair, but she wasn’t planning on spending very much time here, as much as she loved her parents. 

The stiffness and awkwardness she experienced in the house had, for the most part, passed, and she allowed everyone to see her blearily fumbling for the rattly and half broken Keurig at 7am, but something.... she...

She never really ever _did_ anything when she was here for a visit... she just stayed in the house and talked to her parents and sibling(s?) and then she flew back out. And Zoey wanted to do something for once, and a little exercise wouldn’t hurt her.

She ended up walking all the way to Delores’, about a mile away from her house, which normally wouldn’t be a big deal for, her since she walked almost everywhere, but it felt like way more than a mile by the time she got there. The snow had made it much more difficult, and her stupid, stupid motherfucking boots... they were going to drive her crazy all week.

Leif had told her that Delores’ was under new management, that Delores’ daughter Katie ran it now, but she had to see it for herself. The restaurant of chaos and fear, managed by someone who wasn’t scary at all.

The square parking lot with it’s exactly thirteen spaces was mostly empty, save for a Prius and an old blue Chevy with chains on the wheels for snow. That poor truck looked beat up and... kinda sad.

The door still had the bell on it that it had had for as long as Zoey could remember, the gentle tinkling announcing her presence.

Really, nothing was different interior-wise from what she could tell, but the whole vibe of the place was instantly different to her. 

She’d associated this place with screaming and yelling and her dad who had just wanted a bagel standing awkwardly, holding her hand as she tried to peer up at the counter. Now, it was almost... tranquil.

And Leif Donnelly was sitting at a booth, quietly eating an Everything Bagel and looking at his phone.

And this was a small town, yeah, but not _that_ small... they had a good ten thousand-some residents. It shouldn’t be _this_ easy to run into someone here.

But there he was, and she was _starving_ , and Katie, hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and waiting patiently at the counter for her to approach, was the only other person in the place. And wouldn’t it be pretty rude to walk out without getting anything?

So she ordered a cheese bagel, but as soon as she started talking, she could feel Leif looking at her. And at this point, what the hell? After ordering, she walked over to his booth, feeling like she was in high school, in the cafeteria, and Leif was the only other kid sitting alone.

“Okay if I sit here?” Zoey asked quickly, before she lost the nerve.

Leif tried to pretend like he hadn’t been staring at her the whole time she’d been here, but Zoey knew better. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks,” Zoey said, giving him a grateful smile as she slid into the other side of the booth.

“Had to see it for yourself?” Leif asked.

“Yeah... I couldn’t believe what you told me.” She decided that it’d be best not to say ‘I couldn’t believe that Delores was dead,’ within the earshot of her poor daughter.

“I don’t blame you.”

There was a dip where their conversation threatened to end, allowing them to lapse into awkward silence, and Zoey was _so_ not here for that. 

What _was_ she here for? Great question. She didn’t have a great answer to it.

“So I assume the Prius is yours?” It seemed like a pretty safe bet, why would a programmer- even one who lived in rural-ish Minnesota- drive that beat up Chevy?

But instead, Leif told her, “Nah, it’s the Chevy. My dad gave it to me.”

“Weren’t... your family was super rich when we were in school. I never understood why you guys lived here.”

“Because it was good optics for my dad’s business, for him to live in a rural location to show that he wasn’t some Wall Street whatever the fuck. Everyone else left after I graduated high school... and I did too, but then I came back.”

“Why’d you do that?”

He shrugged. “Just felt like it.”

Zoey knew there was a much better answer he wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t want to push it right now. She was the one who had forced them into this awkward song and dance, she wasn’t going to make it more uncomfortable than it needed to be.

“I can’t imagine... I mean, it gave me a great childhood, but... I’m a city girl at heart, I think.”

“My family’s super successful... my brother Derek is the chief oncologist at John Hopkins, my other brother Aaron has a billion dollar hedge fund, my dad’s a retired busy busy businessman who never came to my little brother’s baseball games. And I freelance.”

“Damn, which one’s your little brother?”

“Both of them.”

Zoey considered herself a decently kind person, at least most of the time. So she didn’t know _why_ she made a choked laugh, but she did.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh-“

But Leif was smiling. “It is funny... in a dark kind of way.”

Katie came over to her with her bagel on a purple plastic plate, and Leif waited until Zoey was in the middle of her first bite to speak again.

“Where do you work?”

Zoey motioned to her _very obviously_ full mouth, and did her best to swallow as quickly as she could. “A startup in San Francisco... SPRQ Point.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that. Didn’t the CEO get-“

“Yeah, fraud, money laundering, embezzlement, and tax evasion. He’s on the run, last I heard.”

“Godspeed to him, I guess.”

Zoey did not know how the hell it happened, couldn’t trace back to one sign that she didn’t see that told her what was going to happen, but her conversation with Leif just kept going on and on and on, talking about coding, about video games, and the next thing she knew, she was getting in his truck an hour after first going to Delores’.

And he drove her to his house on Swallow Lane, a one level that was decorated really decently for a one level, and they sat on his couch and talked some more.

And next thing she knew, she was on top of him.

_____________________

 _I couldn’t help myself_ , Zoey thought to herself.

She was in bed, laying on her side, right leg crossed over the other, laying as still as possible so that she wouldn’t wake up Leif.

Zoey wanted to get up and go... get out of here, but she didn’t want to wake up Leif... and she also didn’t want to leave his bed.

He had a queen, with crisp, probably freshly washed blue sheets, judging by the smell of Gain during sex. He had a warm grey comforter, very basic, very manly, but the key word was warm.

Whereas last night she couldn’t get warm for the life of her, in Leif’s bed, she was the perfect level of warm. She figure she could stick her entire body under the blankets and would still be at the perfect temperature.

How had she gotten there so fast?

This Christmas week she had already spent far less time with her family than she normally did... because she’d been having sex with Leif.

Just once, just that day. December 19th. And it wouldn’t happen again.

The best part, Zoey decided, was that it was two in the afternoon, according to Leif’s alarm clock. She had gotten a man into bed _that fast_. Probably a new record for her.

He was asleep, and every sane part of her brain- really just whatever was left from Leif fucking he’d brains out- was telling her to _go_ , but the best idea right now would be to _stay._

What witchcraft did he employ to make his bed this perfect temperature? Zoey wasn’t sure she would ever get enough of it.... holy shit. It made her want to never get out of bed, even if that meant the only person she saw for the rest of her life was Leif.

 _No, I didn’t mean that,_ she decided quickly.

Leif stirred in his sleep and Zoey stilled, careful as she could be to keep him from waking up because of her and her loud anxiety. Luckily, he didn’t wake, and she relaxed.

But it was after that that it hit her that _she had just had sex with someone after knowing them for less than twenty-four hours._

It wasn’t even six yet! It was afternoon sex with a man she just met... how much more gross could you get?

And in that moment, she almost managed to will herself to get up and get going.

But maybe she could just stay in his warm bed for a few more minutes.

And just a few more after that.

Zoey drifted off to sleep again, and by the time she slowly woke up, she could feel light movement from the right side of the bed and knew it was Leif, awake.

The realization didn’t startle her, but it startled her that it _hadn’t._ But it would be nice to just lay here, with her eyes closed, just a few more minutes.

“Zoey, I can totally tell you’re awake,” Leif said.

Defeated, Zoey opened her eyes and looked up into his all too kind and yet all too smug face.

He had put on clothes, a blue cardigan and jeans, and looked pristine, like nothing had ever happened.

“What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

They sat there in silence for a moment, looking at each other. Zoey propped herself up on one elbow to get a better look, but otherwise, they didn’t move, didn’t speak.

And it wasn’t the awkward silence she’d been so afraid of. It was comfortable, _knowing_ silence. 

And it scared the shit out of her.

Finally, she threw the warm covers off of herself, immediately regretting it as the air hit her, but slid off the bed and made her way towards the bathroom, naked as the day she was born.

“You okay?” Leif asked, and, well, she couldn’t exactly tell him that she would’ve been okay with staring at his stupid face for a really long time, could she?

“Yeah... just... sticky?” That wasn’t a lie, she was rather sticky... uh, down there. He’d used protection, and she’d peed after sex, but she hadn’t bothered with a shower.

“Understandable. Towels are under the sink,” Leif said, and Zoey guessed having sex in his bed with him kinda gave her permission to use his shower, but it was a little weird that he didn’t even say ‘you can use my shower.’ But he had told her that she could touch his body, so a shower was, like, all the way back to second base.

Something about his house must’ve just been just magical. Leif’s shower, while being a pretty basic stand up shower, managed to give her the perfect water temperature. It was an understatement to say that she was _living for it._

He just had a one level on Wiley Noland Road, painted green on the outside, with basic everything, but something just made everything worryingly perfect.

She got out and dried herself off with the (thankfully not perfect) towel, and put her same clothes back on. Which wasn’t the best arrangement, but she didn’t have any other options. She had to get back home.

He was looking at his phone on the bed when she came out of the bathroom, and smiled at her. It made her want to run.

“I... I gotta get back. To my family and all,” Zoey explained. 

Leif looked disappointed, but nodded. “You want a ride?”

It was dark outside, but Zoey could probably make it. Wiley Noland Road to Thomas Street was only maybe two miles, her boots would just have to do-

“That was a rhetorical question, by the way,” Leif said, already getting up. Well, shit.

“It’s okay, I can walk-“

“You walked to the park, that’s one thing... and if you were able to walk to the park that means you live at least a solid mile or two from here. So let me drive you.”

Zoey didn’t want to be an inconvenience, but he clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer, already putting on a pair of blue converse with grey laces, and what was she gonna do, run? 

With a small sigh, she slipped on her boots and found her coat tossed haphazardly on the floor in the hallway, and got into the passenger seat of Leif’s truck.

The truck was janky as shit, but it had gotten her here, and she was sure it’d get her back home. The wheels were muddy, and the leather seats were agonizingly cold. She shivered as she waited for him to get in.

Zoey wouldn’t take Leif for a truck person, but here he was, turning the heat up to full blast even if they’d only be driving for a few minutes. “Straight home, huh?”

“Yeah... Thomas Street. You can drop me off down on the corner of Thomas and Curven, if you want?”

“Why would I do that?”

 _Because I don’t want to have to explain to my mom that I had rebound sex with my number one enemy in high school_ , Zoey thought to herself.

“Well... fine. It’s the fourth house to the right.”

“Gotcha,” he said, pulling the car into drive and gently accelerating, headlights off in the dark as he turned onto the road.

“Are you, uh... are you gonna turn on the headlights?” Zoey asked slowly.

“Ah, shit, forgot to,” Leif said, flicking on the headlights. He was a weird guy... him forgetting the headlights didn’t surprise her, honestly. 

But that didn’t stop her playfully annoyed sounding “You forgot _headlights?_ “ 

Leif laughed, and Zoey hated how it made her feel all warm and happy inside.

He pulled up to her house, all bright and warm inside, and looked at her in the moment between him stopping the car and her opening the door.

“See you around?” Leif asked.

This time, no matter how much Logical Zoey didn’t like it, Zoey meant it when she agreed to “See you around.”

She popped open the car door and climbed down, slamming it good and shut behind her. She almost felt like she needed to kiss him goodnight, but it was too late now. Zoey just walked up the gravel driveway, up onto the porch, and into the house.

It was almost seven by then, but for some reason, nobody seemed alarmed that she had been gone all day. Usually she stayed in the house the entire time she was here on a visit, unless she went somewhere with everyone else. 

But all her parents and siblings said were simple hello’s and how was your day’s, like she had just gotten home from work. Who was Zoey to question it, though? Who was she to ask them why they didn’t care about the whereabouts of their _fully grown adult daughter?_

Sometimes she could be really stupid.

_“I left you out there.”_

_“You left me out there! Standing there on the landing!”_

Curled up in her cold little twin that night, she felt almost out of body. It was still cold in there, and she’d had the sense tonight to grab a spare blanket from the linen closet on her way up the stairs, but it wasn’t helping much.

It was a king sized throw, so it wasn’t like it didn’t have enough volume, and it was basically brand new, so it wasn’t like it wasn’t good quality. For whatever reason, she just couldn’t get warm.

Maybe she was just defective.

But Leif... he made her feel like she was actually capable of human-ing. Girl power and she didn’t need no man and all that, but sex was fun. And sex with Leif made her feel like she was capable of anything.

Like nobody could bring her down.

_“I waited by the door like I was just a kid!”_

___________________

Zoey didn’t actually have any plans for the 20th of December. Really, she didn’t.

But much as Logical Zoey told the rest of her _no_ , her body didn’t listen, and the next thing she knew, she was on top of Leif, straddling him on his little brown sofa and kissing him like a horny 20-something- which she was.

“God, Zoey,” he whispered, and it sent shivers down her spine as she made quick work of unbuttoning his top.

“Shut up... tell me what the answer is to a math question.” She gave him a question with a small smirk on her face.

Leif laughed, which was rude, because she had gone back in to kiss his neck, and it was a little weird to have your mouth up against someone’s neck like that. 

“Dude... did I stutter?” Zoey asked, propping herself up on the couch and his chest to look him in the eye.

“You really want me to-“

“Why haven’t you answered the question yet? Are you not the quote unquote ‘best Tyler High Mathlete,’ Leif Donnelly?”

“I... the answer is 5,” Leif answered, Zoey pressing a kiss to his neck as he spoke.

“Good. Now do you want to tell me the answer to three hundred thirty-six divided by seven?” Zoey asked, looking him in the eye once more. His blue eyes were smug, which was not the way they should be... they needed to be begging her for mercy real soon or there would be a lot more math coming his way... or worse.

“That’s not even a hard question... have you just lost your touch and you want me to teach you again? Because I’m always open to tutoring, miss Zoey Clarke, quote unquote ‘best Mathlete at Tyler High?” 

“Or, are you hesitating so that you can count on your fingers behind my back, while I kiss you until your lips bleed?” 

His eyes told her that he would find that hot, and honestly she would too, but his mouth spat out the answer, “Sixty-one point five.”

“Good. Now-“

“No. Now it’s my turn, Miss Clarke.”

“To shut up until you can come up with the answer?”

“No. It’s my turn to make you answer stupid math questions.” He pushed them so that they were sitting up, Zoey still straddling his lap and trying to finally pull off his button down, and then slid his arms under the small of her back. Zoey could only laugh as he made it so that she was laying on her back on the couch, him leaning over her.

“Eight thousand, nine hundred and seventy-two, multiplied by eight and then divided by 17, whats the answer?”

Zoey laughed and used her legs hooked around his waist to her advantage, to draw him in and make sure he used his mouth while she indulged him and his drive to always be better than her. “It’s four thousand, two hundred and twenty-two point one one seven six five, dumb dumb.”

“Dumb dumb? Surely you can do better than that,” he growled, coming in to do something really hot with her ear, and god, if Zoey didn’t know better than to let him win, she would’ve fainted right then and there from that. As it was, she was lightheaded and about ready to just float away and let him take it from there.

“Don’t tempt me, asswipe.”

“That was a little better, but I’m still not impressed. Now... one car starts from point A at 10:30 AM, at the same time another car left from point B  
towards point A at the speed of seventy kilometers an hour. The total distance between two points is eight hundred ten kilometers, so at what time do these two cars meet?”

Zoey couldn’t help but laugh a little... this was getting ridiculous and she kinda loved it.

“They’ll meet at 4:30 PM, dickface.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, taking his hands off where they’d been resting on her waist to tug at her sweater. Zoey obliged, helping him pull it off her, but that still left her in her own button down and a bra, but thank god she hadn’t worn an undershirt today.

“You just had to wear seven layers of clothes, huh? Solve sixteen times eleven divided by eight.”

“Twenty-two... And it’s none of your business what I wear... I wasn’t planning to get rai-“ the end of her sentence was cut off by a high pitched moan that she swore she didn’t consciously make, but he did something that doomed him right to hell with his tongue and her skin. 

“Who says you’re getting railed?” he teased (mocked sexily?). Leif sat up, and Zoey tried to sit back up as well to meet him, but he held her down with one hand on each of her shoulders.

“Every question you answer right, I’ll undo a button on your shirt,” he declared. And that was so fucking hot, but unfair.

“I didn’t do that to you! And the math question thing was my idea, anyway.”

“Not a single button comes undone until you answer a question right,” he insisted, holding firm, his face above her, focused and smug.

“You haven’t even given me a question, fuckface.”

“Four plus four.”

“That’s easy. Fo- two,” Zoey answered, briefly panicking and almost saying four. “Jackass,” she added, as he slowly bent down further than he needed to to undo the top button. Just the top button, agonizingly slowly, and she wanted to kill him for it. The small kiss he left on her collarbone on his way back only made left her more hungry. 

“Now, nineteen times eight hundred ten, divided by seventy, multiplied by ten.”

“It’s two thousand, one hundred ninety-eight, point five seven one four three, dick.”

“See, that’s not so hard,” Leif said, leaning down once more to undo the second button, this time giving her a slightly more satisfying but still not _great_ kiss.

“I know what is so hard,” Zoey taunted, and she could tell that Leif almost broke his whole bit to laugh, but he didn’t, merely coming back up to tower over her.

He asked a question, and she gave him the answer and an insult, each time giving her another button undone, and a better kiss every time, until it was down to the last question and he paused.

“Since you haven’t gotten one wrong yet... don’t move.” He got up off of her, and she was _plenty_ tempted to move, but it was hot to stay immobilized and let him do his thing, as long as he didn’t go Christian Grey on her.

Instead, he merely took off his shirt that had stayed on but unbuttoned for far too long for Zoey’s liking, and also, miraculously, his pants. He was all but naked, and here she was still in a top and pants. What could have been interpreted as some sort of sexy reward was really a clever little smug faced asshole move, leaving her in an agonizing amount of clothing.

God, she _hated him._

“Ready for your last question?” Leif asked smugly, climbing back up so he was on top of her, but also managing not to touch her at _all_ , which she wanted to _strangle_ him for.

But in a sexy way, mind you.

“Of course I am, bitch.”

“Alright... one plus one?”

“Five,” Zoey answered instantly, without even really processing the question. She knew she got it wrong and she’d done it on purpose, hoping to rile Leif up more, but he seemed unbothered.

He bent down dutifully and undid her final button, and as soon as he did, Zoey took the chance and sat up to unhook her bra and fling it into the unimportant abyss that was everything in the world besides Leif Donnelly.

“No more math, jerk, just... do me like one of your French girls.”

This time, Leif really did break and laugh, and she wanted to glare at him, but seeing him laugh made her laugh and then they were both busting a gut, mostly naked.

“I’ve never even dated a French girl, or boy,” Leif said.

“Who the hell was Madeline in junior year, then?”

“A fake. She didn’t adjust for the fact that I had taken two years of high school French.”

“Well... just... do me. Preferably within the next three minutes, or I might combust,” Zoey said, noticing how desperate and, uh, eyes on the prize her voice was, but who cared? The only person there was Leif and he wasn’t going to make her feel insecure, she knew.

“Well, then... if you insist.”

Before she could say a word or move, he picked her up and carried her, bride style, as she yelped with surprise, to his bedroom.

______________

Why did she keep leaving his bed and going to her own for the night? Zoey still couldn’t quite get warm, and there was a distinct lack of sexy math in her bed, just plain sheets and now two spare blankets on top of the one she already had. 

It had been harder to get out of his bed this time, but she counted down from ten to one in her head and forced herself to sit up and then count down again. At zero, she had to swing her legs off the bed, and at zero again, she had to get her ass up.

In her entire romantic career, she’d never had sex that good... and she had dated someone for five years straight. Maybe it was because there was no illusion of commitment- the sex had no strings, just two people burying their sorrows in really stinking good sex. 

Why did the realization that Zoey had had the best sex of her life that day make her suddenly start crying?

The problem was, simply.... the fact that she felt more from a random person she’d known in high school than she ever had from the man she’d dated for five years meant that those five years... were squandered. 

It wasn’t just the sex. It was how he would take little pieces of her and crumple them up like little pieces of paper every single day. It was how he was always so entitled to her... always so needy.

_“Sounds like champagne problems to me!”_

And Leif, a boy she’d known in high school, who she’d only known in his current form for three days, had made her feel so much more in those three days.

But the kicker to all this was that _she couldn’t stay._

Zoey wasn’t going to leave her job to move back to Minnesota, and she wasn’t going to ask Leif to leave his, and long distance? With her work schedule? A terrifying and improbable thought. 

It wasn’t just the sex. It was how he took care with her during the sex... how he cared about how she felt. How he treated her in the moments between that...

And she couldn’t have it.

Here Zoey was, curled up and crying in her tiny, cold bed, as the weight of the world suddenly dropped down on her shoulders. She had been riding the high he gave her, and now, just like that, she had to end it. Sudden and cruel.

______________________

And that’s what she had been planning to do when she went to his house on the 23rd, after spending a day with her family and not going to see him for that whole time, hoping that her break would hurt him less when it happened.

She met him down at the end of Thomas Road and hopped in the passenger seat of his truck, and he drove to his house. Leif was intending to take her apart in the best way possible, but she was intending to take him apart in the _worst_ way possible.

“Can we... talk, first?” She said, stepping awkwardly into his foyer. 

“Of course,” he said, smiling. He was happy just to speak to her... _this meant more to him than it did her._

“I just... I want to talk to you about... my ex,” Zoey said. She’d devised a plan- tell him about how she had hurt Max in the worst way possible, and then tell him that she couldn’t see him anymore. Scare him so much that he wouldn’t be upset when she never came back.

“Oh, okay, I’m always in the mood to hear about shitty people,” Leif said, sitting down on the couch in a relaxed position. Zoey sat ramrod straight next to him, hands folded on her knee.

“I... he wasn’t shitty.”

“Oh?” Leif asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He... I... we dated for five years and just broke up literally like... a week ago?” It was beyond scary that she couldn’t remember exactly anymore.

“That sucks... and don’t worry, I don’t care about how soon it is. It’s your life, and I’m thrilled to be part of it.”

“You... he... we went to a party with our friends. And everything was fine... and then he... the music stopped.” Why was she being so dramatic about it? The shit that had happened had been so simple... in real life it was a quiet and stunning event.

Leif was silent, waiting patiently for her to continue. She hadn’t even told David this, much less her parents... he was so easy to talk to and it hurt like being stabbed in the heart.

“He... got down on one knee and proposed to me... with his mother’s ring.”

Zoey took a deep and shaky breath, waiting for the reaction she was sure Leif would have: disgust.

But instead it was... concern. And not even for Max! Leif was such a bitch and she liked him _so much._

“And you said no,” Leif finished.

“And I said no,” Zoey repeated quietly. She ducked her head and stared at her lap, ashamed.

“What happened after that, Zoey?” Leif asked softly.

“I... ran back to his apartment. To pack my stuff... he followed me. And we had a fight and we broke up... and I... left for Minnesota a little early.”

_“I never was ready... so watch me go, Max.”_

“If you weren’t ready for marriage... and you broke it off after... that tells me there was a problem with your relationship.”

“I had a totally different plan for that night. I... I had wanted to break up with him for... for _two years_ ,” Zoey blurted out, admitting it not just to Leif, but to herself.

And he nodded when she looked up at him, silently letting her continue.

_“I told my family for a reason! They came to the party... to see us get engaged!” Max yelled._

_“I didn’t... Max, I was going to break up with you tonight! And you know I don’t like big public shit, regardless.”_

_“You never gave me a single sign you were unhappy, Zoey.”_

_“I had_ so many signs _,” Zoey yelled, tears streaming down her face._

_“You’re crazy if you throw this away,” he said, shaking his head and stuffing the ring back into his pocket._

_“No, Max. No, I’m not crazy.”_

_“How could you, though? You just left me there, alone!”_

_“I left you out there,” Zoey admitted softly._

_“Yeah, you left me out there! Standing there on the landing!”_

_“You don’t get to... Max, I’ve been meaning to break this up for two years.”_

_“Thanks, just hurt me a little more, I guess... why the fuck didn’t you?”_

_“Because I was terrified... I didn’t want to hurt you.”_

_“Well, you hurt me. Proud of yourself?”_

_“I had been meaning to... you don’t remember all those times you left me waiting? When you were off on work business that may or may not have been just you escaping from me... not even cheating on me, you just didn’t want to be around me so much that you lied to me and went to New York. And i thought you were coming home... I waited by the door like I was just a kid! Sometimes I felt like you only just tolerated me and my love... and I stayed with you.”_

_“That’s dumb... why didn’t you just break up with me?”_

_“I don’t_ know! _” Zoey shouted. “Just... it’s... we’re done. We’re breaking up.”_

_“Finally... it’s only two years and mountains of feelings later. I loved you, Zoey... I wanted to start a family with you. Be with you for the rest of my life.”_

_“I’m sorry that I did this to you... genuinely. I should have broken it up forever ago. I was scared.”_

_“Sounds like champagne problems to me.”_

_“Well... you won’t remember!” Zoey said softly, though punctuating the end of her sentence firmly. “You won’t remember my champagne problems... you’ll find someone who wants your mom’s ring. But I... I can’t be that someone.”_

“I... I was going to break up with him that night. I had... packed my stuff into a bag and shoved it in my drawer I had in his dresser... so that when I broke up with him after the party, I could just grab my bag and leave,” Zoey continued. “We were going to break up... and I... it wouldn’t have hurt him so much if I’d had the courage to do it sooner.”

“Was he abusive?”

“What? No, he wasn’t. He just... took little pieces of me and tore me all up... and he left behind someone who’s barely a person when he was done picking me off. For two years I planned to break up with him and then postponed it because it wasn’t the right time, didn’t want to hurt him, and most of all... I was afraid he’d break me in half. Emotionally.” 

“Why are you so ashamed of yourself?” Leif asked bluntly.

She was shocked into silence for a moment, but quickly followed up with a, “What... what do you mean?”

“You look like you hate yourself for it... it’s not your fault that he chose to propose that night. He hurt you.”

“But I hurt him too... he isn’t abusive. Far from it. We just weren’t made for each other... I shoulder blame for not leaving sooner.” Those words felt freeing. He had given her happiness and she had given him happiness in return, but they weren’t good for each other... his personality slowly crumpled her up into nothing. She was not a victim, nor was she evil, she was just... human.

“You made a breakthrough with yourself just now, huh?”

“Yeah...” she nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

“It means a lot to me that you were willing to tell me that... that you trusted me that much.”

“Leif... that’s... you shouldn’t be siding with me.”

“You’re a human being, Zoey... humans make mistakes.”

“No, this... I was trying to scare you.”

He looked confused, and... and _hurt_. The knife that had already been stabbed into her chest twisted.

“Why?”

“I can’t... commit to this, Leif. There’s nothing here. I like you a lot, and you are...” Zoey had to stop to breathe and wipe her eyes, finally realizing how hard she was crying, “You are an _amazing_ guy, and you make me feel more than anyone I’ve ever been with.”

“We can do long distance... I don’t expect you to come live in Minnesota. And if it gets serious, I can move.” Leif seemed... slightly desperate. Like he was fighting to keep something that made him genuinely happy.

“But I can’t... I... you’re a rebound fling. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more... because you can’t stomach the thought of commitment right now?” Leif asked softly, obviously hurt.

Zoey just nodded.

And he still looked deeply hurt, but now it was... he looked like he _understood._

That was it. She couldn’t do it anymore... the way that he was perfect for her in every single way and yet _she couldn’t have him_ and she had just _hurt him_ driving the knife deep into her chest.

“I... I’m going to see myself out... so I don’t keep hurting you.”

“Let me give you a ride back home, then,” Leif said, looking eager to do so. To fight more... to soak up final moments with her.

“No... no. I’m not going to do that to you.”

“It’s dark and snowing outside, Zoey...”

“I’ll be fine,” Zoey said, and with that, she ran into the foyer, grabbed her coat, and left as quickly as she’d come.

In and out like a flash. In and out of his house in ten minutes, breaking his heart in ten minutes, string him along for four days.

She ran the first bit away from his house, but slipped on her stupid, _stupid_ fucking boots with no traction. 

Zoey managed to fall mostly on her side, ensuring she’d be bruised up and sore for days, a and scrambled up as soon as she could, walking slower now.

The snow was falling and it was almost completely dark outside, the only light coming from dim streetlights dotting the sidewalk here and there. She knew there would be a pretty big storm coming through soon, this was probably just the edge of it, but she couldn’t will herself to move any faster. Just trudging along on snow, her tears freezing her almost completely numb face further.

She ducked her head down in an attempt to see where she was going and shield herself from the falling snow, but it didn’t do much. Zoey was still walking in what would soon be a snowstorm, the temperature in the teens at best.

She lived far away and she just could _not_ commit to him... even if every sane part of her was saying to run back and go kiss him and be with him the rest of her life.

Zoey couldn’t get warm not only in her bed that night, but also anywhere else in the house, no matter what, so she just stayed up all night, doing work and crying at random intervals, struggling to see her screen through the tears.

Christmas would come and go, and on the 26th, she was driven again to the airport. She’d booked the night flight for a reason, back when she’d rescheduled her return flight when she had broken up with Max... so Zoey could sit there in her hurt, surrounded by people silently sleeping. Peaceful and torturous. 

But the worst part.... was that she was coming back for New Year’s.

**Author's Note:**

> so uh.... there’s gonna be a part two. it was supposed to happen on new year’s day but it did not, and i haven’t started it yet... but it WILL HAPPEN. eventually. 
> 
> my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, im a swiftie, and please don’t walk through snowstorms just to be ✨angsty✨. and turn on your headlights and buckle your goddamn seatbelt or die by my hands 🔫👁👄👁


End file.
